


The High Horse Isn't Always the Righteous One

by Telaryn



Series: The Hero and The Bad Boy [33]
Category: Leverage, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Ms. Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Conversations, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Custody Arrangements, Emotional Baggage, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Interrogation, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:44:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3681966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn submits to being interrogated by Kamala Khan in order to get the new Ms. Marvel to agree to help protect his child.  While that's going on, Natasha helps Clint to see that he isn't the only injured party in this mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The High Horse Isn't Always the Righteous One

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so there's probably two more stories left in the series. I had - foolishly - thought that I could squeeze Clint and Tony having it out into this section. Who would have thought it would take nearly five thousand words for Kamala to get comfortable taking on responsibility for the baby's security?
> 
> Thank you everyone who's continued to stick with me and my noodlings.

“Harder…” Pressure – sweet, thick and warm - spiraling up through his body as Quinn thrust into him over and over. “Oh God, Quinn…so close…” His hands fisted in the sheets as Quinn continued to ride him, cock pushing repeatedly against his prostate and driving all conscious thought from his mind. “Please…”

“Wish you could see yourself.” Quinn’s voice was a low growl, velvet against his over-sensitized skin. “Sweaty and desperate…a gorgeous mess…” He thrust particularly hard on the last word, shoving Clint into the pillows and wresting a cry from the archer’s throat. “I can feel how hard you are,” he whispered, putting his mouth next to Clint’s ear. “I bet you’d come if I breathed on you just right.”

Clint nodded, quick and sharp as spots began to explode in his vision. Quinn palmed the head of his cock, smearing the pre-come that had gathered at the tip across his palm and wrapping his nimble fingers around Clint’s shaft. One long, slow, achingly firm stroke was all it took – Clint’s back arched, and every muscle in his body seized as the world went white around him, caught fast in the grip of one of the most intense pleasure highs he’d ever known in his life.

He didn’t want it to end. When Quinn pulled him in close a moment latter, shaking and covered in his own sweat as he came, Clint wrapped his arms and legs around his lover, holding Quinn as tightly as he could. “Love you. God…love you so much.”

Quinn tightened his own grip on Clint, burying his face against the archer’s neck. “Love you too,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into Clint’s skin.

They fell asleep for over an hour after that, gradually shifting until Clint was spooned around Quinn. He would have happily stayed like that for the rest of the morning, except that he’d learned from long, painful years of experience that when Natasha needed him awake sleep was not an option. He came awake with a start, as she shoved at him. “What?”

“We have to go to Jersey.”

Quinn was already stirring in his arms. “Why in Stark’s name would I need to go to Jersey?” Clint asked, blinking owlishly at his partner as she moved back to the foot of the bed. “And I thought you started knocking again?”

“I’ve _been_ knocking,” Nat countered, catching up a robe and tossing it at Quinn. “Get a shower. Jess called – we’re meeting Kamala at one, and you two reek of sex.”

“Both of us?” Quinn asked, still fuzzy from their morning’s activities and the unexpected nap. He started dutifully pulling the robe on, even before Natasha answered.

“Both of you,” Nat said, her expression softening. “I think she’s going to say yes.”  
****************************************  
Quinn’s heart was racing as he stepped into the shower and let the hot water sluice the sweat and other remnants of the morning off his skin. _Kamala Khan. Ms. Marvel._ He’d spent hours going over everything JARVIS could pass him about the girl, ever since Clint had told him about the plan to secure her cooperation as extra security for his daughter. _”Married to a SHIELD agent would have been bad enough. Marrying an Avenger puts a target on the back of everybody you’ve ever allowed yourself to care about.”_ Quinn knew that for the most part he was lucky in that regard. He could count the number of people that fell into the category of potential targets on one hand, and all of them were perfectly capable of defending themselves.

…all except a laughing dark haired, dark eyed three month old baby who he would only ever be allowed minimal contact with, and who he loved more than anyone or anything.

 _”I respect what you’re saying – I really do.”_ Quinn frowned as memory of a conversation he’d had with Tony Stark two days earlier wormed its way back into his thoughts. _”All I’m saying is that Clint doesn’t understand how much easier the proper application of cash could make this.”_ He’d been perched on the edge of Quinn’s desk as he talked, everything about him and what he’d said so seductive Quinn had been genuinely tempted to say yes.

He hadn’t told Clint about the conversation, taking refuge in the fact that in the end he hadn’t agreed to Tony’s offer. Quinn still felt guilty about the fact that he’d allowed Tony Stark – his boss, in addition to being Clint’s teammate and their nominal landlord – to ever become a serious bone of contention between him and Clint.

Quinn knew Clint’s intentions were good with regards to the custody issue. And it wasn’t like he was wrong either – that was the bitch of it. _“The Sahars’ attorney will tear you apart on the stand. They may not be able to get to everything you’ve ever done as a mercenary, but all they really have to do to make their case is follow whatever trail Badria used to hire the people who helped her kidnap you.”_

Tony – for all that his way promised a quick and easy success – had a rather endearing blind spot when it came to acknowledging that Quinn was actually guilty of the things people accused him of. Clint had finally been forced to acknowledge during one memorable argument that if all else failed Tony did have enough money and global connections to spirit Quinn and his daughter to safety beyond the reach of any government the Sahars could find to care about what he’d done.

It was when Quinn had asked _”Would you come with me?”_ that everything went to hell, because Clint didn’t have an answer for him. They’d slept apart that night – the first time where neither of them was out of town for work that they’d done that since before Clint had decided to choose Quinn over the previous love of his life Phil Coulson.

Making up had been a careful process, but Quinn had finally realized he wasn’t ready to leave a life where he at least nominally had both his lover and his daughter for a life where he would almost certainly lose one of them for good.

“Somebody spent way too much time thinking in there,” Natasha observed when he returned to the bedroom ten minutes later. Quinn knew he looked guilty, because when he glanced at Clint all traces of the morning’s bliss were gone from the archer’s face.

“Clint,” he said, reaching out and catching the other man’s hand as Clint went to shoulder past him. They stared at each other for a long moment, then Clint’s expression softened.

“It’ll be okay,” he said gently, raising their joined hands to his lips and kissing Quinn’s knuckles. “Dress casual. I won’t be long.”

Quinn toweled his hair and reached for his brush, bumping Natasha over as he did. “He knows Stark talked to you,” she said quietly as Quinn began smoothing out the tangles left by his hasty shower.

Glancing up, he met her green eyes in the mirror. “He is my boss, Tash. I can’t keep him from talking to me.” One raised eyebrow was all she gave him by way of response, and Quinn felt any desire to argue the point leave him in a rush. “Clint and I are finally getting to a good place after everything that’s happened. You have to trust that I’m not going to screw that up.”  
******************************************  
“So we’re really meeting real-life Avengers?” Bruno asked, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He was trying to sound casual, like this was something that happened to him every day, but even after brushes with Wolverine and Loki Kamala could tell that he was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Hawkeye and Black Widow, yeah,” she said, nodding and trying to ignore her own little shiver of fangirl glee on hearing herself say the names like it was no big deal. _Like they didn’t offer you a job three weeks ago. A bodyguard job that Earth’s Mightiest Heroes can’t do._ “There’s a catch though, and that’s why I need you to come with me.”

She was grateful that Bruno didn’t interrupt or try to argue with her as she outlined the offer that had been carried to her by Spider-Woman and confirmed as legitimate by Captain Marvel herself, but put her at ground zero for one of the nastiest scandals to hit the various Muslim communities in New Jersey since 9/11 had painted all of them with the terrorism brush.

“Have you at least talked to Sheikh Abdullah about this?” Bruno asked, once she was finished.

Kamala nodded again. “As much as I can, of course. He said this is one of those things where I have to listen for Allah’s guidance and try to do what’s best for the greatest amount of people.”

“Or the most helpless,” Bruno said, knowing immediately what passage of the Qu’ran she had been referring to. “You’re thinking about that baby.”

They walked along in silence as Kamala considered her answer. “I’m sure the Sahars will do whatever they have to in order to protect Hanifah,” she said carefully. “If she’s the child of somebody married to an Avenger though, I’m not sure how much their intentions will matter?”

“What about the gay thing?” Bruno asked. He wasn’t homophobic, Kamala knew – anymore than she thought she was – but it was something their entire generation struggled with. A mandate to shun homosexuals for their sinful lifestyle was hard to reconcile with an awareness that the Qu’ran required its followers show Allah’s love to the world.

“It isn’t relevant,” she said finally. “Nobody’s asking me to say yes or no to the relationship, and as far as I know Mr. Quinn’s doing everything the Sahars want him to do in order to see his daughter and keep the peace. If I’ve learned anything from Sheikh Abdullah it’s that this is one of those things that’s probably none of my business.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized two of the three figures standing outside the restaurant further up the block. The third, who had to be Jonah Quinn, was taller than Clint and broader through the shoulders. His fair, straight hair was tied off his face in a short ponytail. “Okay,” Kamala said, stopping and turning to face Bruno, “I’ve got a bunch of questions I need to ask him before I say yes to this, and…”

“And you want my read on his answers,” Bruno finished for her. Kamala was so grateful she could have hugged him. For all the bravado she’d displayed in her earlier meeting with the superheroes, she was still just a teenage girl and not as worldly as she suspected she was going to need to be in order to determine whether she could trust Jonah Quinn.  
****************************************  
“Are you as nervous as you look?” Nat asked, looking Quinn over. “Or is this just an act for Kamala’s sake?”

Quinn laughed nervously. “No – I’m pretty sure this is genuine. It may come as a surprise to you two super-spies, but any experience I have impressing sixteen year old girls is decades out of date and completely inappropriate for what’s about to happen here.”

Feeling a rush of sympathy for his partner, Clint reached out and caught Quinn’s hand in a quick clasp. “You’ll do fine,” he said when Quinn looked at him. “Kamala’s a sharp girl – just remember that she’s heard all the bad stuff and she’s still willing to meet you. That says a lot.”

“Keep the charm at a minimum though,” Nat interjected. “She’s packing a chaperone – that tells me she’s expecting you to try and manipulate her.”

Quinn glanced at Clint, who raised his hands. “Don’t look at me – she’s got a point. That’s gonna be your first instinct the second she starts questioning you. This girl’s going to be on the lookout for that.”

He was relieved that Kamala and her escort were walking towards them again. It felt wrong all the way down to his bones holding himself physically apart from Quinn like this. Even before they’d been able to say ‘I love you’ to each other, the desire for physical contact had been one of the first things that drew them together.

They had talked extensively about how to approach this meeting, though, and both of them had agreed with Natasha’s assessment that drawing too much attention to their relationship ran the risk of unnecessarily complicating things.

“Hey Kamala,” Nat said, as soon as the two teens were in earshot. “We were glad you called.”

Clint nodded a greeting at her. The boy at her side looked older, but not by much. His eyes were a touch too wide as he looked between Clint and Natasha – clearly awestruck. “This is Bruno,” Kamala said, elbowing the boy hard enough in the side to bring him somewhat back to reality. “He’s kind of my JARVIS.”

Clint knew the smile on his face was mirrored on Quinn and Natasha’s, but Bruno clearly took it as the compliment Kamala had intended it. “This is Quinn,” he said, nodding at his lover. “How do you want to do this?”

Kamala looked startled by his question. “You called this meeting,” Nat said, following his lead. “Ball’s in your court.”

Now it was Kamala’s eyes that were a touch too wide. “I want to talk to Mr. Quinn alone,” she said. “Me and Bruno. No offense,” she added hastily, looking at Clint, “but you guys are really intimidating.”

Quinn laughed – Clint slapped at him without turning to look. “I like her,” Quinn said, stepping up evenly with Clint and Natasha. “How about we get one table while these two get another one far enough away for you to be comfortable?” He nodded at Kamala.

She looked him over – already taking the measure of him, Clint realized – and then nodded.

“Watch the charm,” Clint murmured as the group of them entered the restaurant together.

“He’ll be fine,” Nat said, putting an arm around his shoulder as Quinn and his two interrogators were led to their table. “She’s more concerned about the baby than she is about him anyway.”

“That makes two of them,” Clint said as the hostess returned to take them to their seats.  
*************************************  
“So,” Quinn said, flipping open his menu, “I missed breakfast. If neither of you minds – I’m going to order and eat while we talk. You’re welcome to join me. My treat.”

He was afraid for a moment that either of the teens might interpret his offer as some sort of bribe, but the speed with which Bruno opened his menu quickly put that fear to rest. “Thank you for calling,” Quinn said to Kamala. “I was hoping for a chance to meet you.”

It took Quinn all of a second, with most of his attention on his menu, to understand why Clint and Tash had both cautioned him against trying to charm or otherwise manipulate Kamala into doing what they wanted. It would have been easy – while the files he’d gotten from JARVIS proved she was a fast learner, she was obviously still trying to find her footing in the reality of her new life. _Exactly the kind of person I could screw up without thinking twice about it._ It wasn’t a pleasant realization about himself.

“There’s been a lot of talk about you,” Kamala said finally, putting her menu down. “I figured the smart thing to do would be to see for myself what was true and what wasn’t.”

Their server interrupted them then, and all three ended up putting in sizeable orders. When they were alone again, Quinn settled back in his chair and spread his hands. “Ask your questions. I’ll be as honest as I can be.”

Kamala’s brow furrowed at his qualification, but before he could explain what he’d meant Bruno asked, “Is it really that bad?”

Quinn blew out a quiet breath, carefully considering how he wanted to answer this. “I won’t lie to you about who I am and what I’ve done. If I refuse to go into detail about something, I would ask that you consider how bad the stuff I do tell you is before you push me.” He focused on Kamala. “Deal?”

She studied him for a long moment, before nodding. “Deal. Why did you kill Badria Sahar’s family? Were you a soldier?”

He was ready for the question, but the follow-up about him being a soldier almost made him smile. “I was never in the military. I was hired to kill Pamir Sahar by a rival arms dealer. The only other person I killed that night was Badria’s brother Tarakhai because he decided threatening me with one of his father’s guns was a smart thing to do.”

Kamala was silent for another long moment, digesting what he’d said. “Badria was convicted of kidnapping and rape. Did she really rape you?”

Quinn saw Bruno wince, but somehow hearing the question stated so bluntly was easier for him than if Kamala had been timid about broaching the subject. “She did.” As answers went, it was enough. There was no point in going into greater detail, no point in talking about the six others who had violated him on that horrible day, months of physical and psychological rehab and patience on Clint’s part as he learned how to be touched again without wanting to die.

“Why haven’t you tried to get custody of Hanifah?”

He’d expected this one too, but in light of Tasha’s earlier revelation that Clint knew he’d talked to Tony again it was harder to sort out an answer that Kamala could work with that would still be the truth. “Her mother had petitioned the court for an abortion,” he said finally. “She believed she would never be caught, and the idea that I might be able to have contact with our child was more than she could stand.” He took a drink of water to cover the fact that he was starting to tremble.

“Yasameen and Amin went to the prison the same day I did, trying to convince Badria not to go through with the abortion. They agreed to allow me supervised visitation if I dropped all attempts to gain custody of my daughter.””

“Sounds like a raw deal man,” Bruno said.

Quinn allowed himself a sad smile as he said, “The only other option was Hanifah not being born at all. I was never going to win a custody fight.”

“Why not?” Bruno asked.

“He just told you,” Kamala said. “He killed her father and brother. And did a lot of other bad stuff besides. Hawkeye says you’re not that guy anymore, though.”

“Clint has an amazing capacity to forgive,” Quinn said quietly, thinking of all the times he’d put that ability to the test lately.

Their food came at that moment, pausing the conversation. Quinn allowed himself several bites of his food while both the teens dug into their order with enthusiasm. “I don’t kill people for money anymore,” he said abruptly – knowing that it was a risk speaking without answering a direct question, but feeling like he hadn’t given Kamala’s last question the attention it warranted. “I have a good job, friends, somebody I love who loves me in return…and I have a child.” He drew in a breath and felt his chest ache with the emotion of it all. “You have to understand that these are all things I never thought I’d be allowed to have, and they’re all very important to me, so I guess Hawkeye is right in saying I’m not the man I used to be.”

“Are you sorry for what you did?” Kamala asked. “I mean, what you used to do?”

Quinn sobered. That was definitely the more challenging question. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “Before Badria did…what she did…I was never really big on second-guessing myself. Now?” He shrugged. “I know there are still a lot of people out there who don’t think I deserve to be happy, and maybe one of these days one of them is going to be in a position to do something about that. Until then I have to work with what I have right now.”  
**************************************  
Natasha had ordered pie – Clint a burger and fries for the same reason Quinn had taken the time to order a real meal. “You know I’m going to get you for making me sit over here,” he grumbled, before taking the last bite of his lunch. “How’re they doing?”

“Will you relax?” Nat sighed, shoving him under the table with a foot. “This is exactly why I didn’t want you staring at him this whole time. He’s doing fine, although if we’re picking up the check for those two it’s going to be painful.” She shook her head, spearing the last piece of pie. “Teenagers.”

They fell silent for a while, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Clint was nearly finished with his food when the thing that had been nagging at him for most of the morning finally slipped out. “What am I going to do about Stark?”

“We could kill him,” Nat countered, without missing a beat. When Clint glared at her, she shrugged. “You’re not going to put this on me, Barton. I assume letting the two of them screw it out of their system is off the table?”

Clint snorted softly. “Yeah. It is.” _If we weren’t three weeks to the wedding,_ he thought. _If Tony could have just kept his nose out of the custody business…_ “I know I probably handled it all wrong, but it really didn’t bother me until he kept convincing Quinn that running off to the ends of the earth with Hanifah was the way to go.”

Nat’s expression had gone shrewd, and Clint braced himself for whatever bit of truth he was about to get right between his eyes. “You mean you don’t like Stark taking Quinn’s side the way you expect me to take yours?”

 _Ouch._ “Wow,” he said out loud. “There’s nothing I can say that’s going to get me out of that one, is there?”

“Not really,” Nat said, giving him a small smile. “Look – you’re about to marry the guy. Unless you’re ready to start telling him who he can have as his friends, you need to figure out a way to make your peace with this. Considering he’s being asked to choose between you and his child, I think he’s doing an impressive job of trying to hold onto you both.”

Clint’s stomach was starting to twist into uncomfortable knots. “Do you think he should take Stark’s offer?”

Nat shook her head immediately. “No – I think you’re right to push for the long game. Time is on Quinn’s side; as long as the girl’s not being raised to hate him, eventually she’ll be in a position to decide how much of a relationship she wants.” She paused. “Neither of us have children, Clint. I think what I’m saying is that you need to start appreciating how difficult this is for him.”

Knowing that she wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t something she needed him to take seriously, Clint tried to come at the issue from a different angle. “I know I’m not handling it well, but you were there when we found him Nat – you _saw_.”

“He’s been near death before, Clint – you both have,” Nat said gently. “I remember Bruce and me talking to you about that being the primary risk of you two committing to each other.”

He shook his head. “This is different. This was a trap, start to finish, and he’s still caught in it.”

“Are you jealous of the baby?”

Clint’s first reaction was to deny it, but the question resonated too deeply. “I think if Coulson had let me take Badria out the day we rescued him I would be handling all of this better. I think of the kid though…” He forced himself to stop. “Hanifah,” he made himself say. “I think of Hanifah, and all I can see is a forever tie to the woman who almost took him away from me. She’s still alive, Nat,” he went on, vision blurring briefly with all the grief he daily tried to keep away from Quinn. “She’s still alive and that offends me so much.” He didn’t realize his hands had clenched into fists until Natasha covered them with her own.

“Clint, you know if it hadn’t been her it would have been somebody eventually. It’s the sentence we all live under.” She blew out a quiet breath. “He’s alive. Against all conceivable odds, he’s healing and he’s trying to build something out of the wreck Badria left in her wake.” Her hands tightened on his. “If you really love him enough to marry him, maybe you need to worry less about what might go wrong and start helping him build something good out of all of this?”  
*****************************  
She was really going to do this. Kamala reached across under the table and gripped Bruno’s hand. She hadn’t always been able to read Mr. Quinn’s body language, but she could read Bruno’s – and while her best friend clearly hadn’t liked her bringing up the rape conviction, he’d been full of sympathy for the situation Quinn was trapped in now.

 _They don’t expect you to fix this or manipulate Mrs. Sahar,_ she reminded herself as Mr. Quinn paid the check and the three of them walked back to where Clint and Natasha were sitting. It was what had ultimately sold her – that plus the fact that Mr. Quinn really did seem to be trying to be a decent guy. _And Hawkeye really loves him,_ she thought as the two men kissed. If you couldn’t trust an Avenger, who could you trust?

“So, how do you want to do this?” she asked Black Widow. Natasha looked briefly at Clint and Quinn, then shrugged.

“No reason to wait if you’ve got the time. I spoke to Yasameen this morning after you called. Her afternoon is free, and she said she would love to meet you.” Kamala felt her stomach lurch with anticipation almost exactly at the moment she saw Mr. Quinn tense at the edge of her vision. Natasha saw the movement too and shook her head. “You and Clint go back to the Tower, Jonah. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Bruno was looking at Quinn when he said, “I should go with Kamala.” He then glanced nervously at Natasha, who nodded.

“Of course,” she said. “Mrs. Sahar can hardly object to Kamala bringing a proper chaperone.”

Kamala felt Mr. Quinn’s eyes on her – as she started to turn, she saw him pull his hand back as though he’d reached for her instinctively and thought better of it. “Are you okay with me watching your daughter?” she asked, meeting his eyes. “I just realized that I’ve been asking you a whole bunch of questions, but I don’t really know how you feel about me?”

The smile he showed her was genuine, lighting up his pale eyes. “I think my little girl would be very lucky to have someone like you looking out for her, Kamala Khan.”  
******************************************  
They watched Nat leave with the two teenagers in tow. Quinn was still faced away from Clint when the archer heard him say quietly, “I’ll quit working for Stark if you want me to.”

“What?” _Ah God – I’m an idiot,_ he thought, taking Quinn by the arm and pulling him back around. “Quinn no – I don’t want that. Seriously.” He blew out a sharp breath. “Look,” he said, taking his lover’s hands in his and squaring off with the other man, “I’ve fucked this up. Nat just handed me my ass about the way I’ve been behaving, and she’s right. I don’t need you to stop working for Tony, or even to stop being friends with him.”

Quinn’s expression was full of emotion. “I can’t keep going on like this,” he said. “Every time I talk with him, it feels like something I have to keep from you so we won’t fight.”

Clint considered himself lucky that he’d been prepared to feel worse about how he’d been behaving. “I have issues with Stark’s behavior – I’ll own that,” he said. “But that’s between me and him – it’s not for you to solve.” Tugging Quinn in closer, he leaned up and kissed him. After a beat he felt the tension Quinn had been holding onto ease. “I’ll fix this,” he said softly as the kiss ended. “Before the wedding. Before tomorrow – I swear.”

Grinning, Quinn pulled him into a tight embrace. “Tomorrow’s fine. Right now I think I want your undivided attention for about the next eight or ten hours.”

“Eight or ten hours?” Clint pulled back far enough to give his lover a perfect Vulcan eyebrow. “That’s pretty ambitious, don’t you think?”

Quinn shrugged. “Anyone worth doing is worth doing right.”


End file.
